Part one, ramblings.
I am a dependant person. With a fucked up perspective of that how works. I want to be feircely independent. I want things my way. And i want someone to take care of me. In every way. I want all the cake.
For a long time, I did not understand the duality of that scenario. Its pretty blarily obvious. One of those what has been seen can not be unseen things. But i had never really *thought* about it.
A few months ago, I had a falling out with my mother. We havent spoken in over 6 weeks, no happy mothers days, no happy memorial day. Its the first time we havent resolved our issues in a week.
Shes threatened me with legal action, which wouldnt stand at all in court. She continued to hold it over my head, in every subsequent conversation. She insulted me, my husband, my house, my mothering (which is admittedly horrible. I gave birth once, I am not a mother. -- thats a whole other complicated scenario, Ill talk about another time), my hygiene, my job status, and my hobbies. She sent me letters, and i might share them. While deeply personal, they speak much louder to the situation than I ever could, even while screaming.
The hinge pin, to just not speaking to her, was being told she wouldnt respond unless I thanked her for taking care of my child. But not just a thank you..she included an entire paragraph of every specific thing I should thank her for. And not just once, but everytime I spoke to her.
I know this game. And I wont ever speak to her if thanking her is a requirement. Its not that I am not thankful. Its just shes not going simultaneously control me, while also making my actual thank yous worthless. No.. thank you. She absolutely wants the "you only say thank you because i make you" cannon. Nu fuckin uh, bitch.
Balls in my court and its just sitting there while i stare at it. Fuck your ball and your game.
Thats how the story ends. Currently, at least.
It started almost 30 years with a woman who devoted her entire life to her one child. Me. If i told you all the good things, and never mentioned all the bad things, youd think she was perfect. That i was a brat. And that Im a horrible fucking person. (Welcome to side one of the internal Savannah conflict, brought to you by the makers of horrible mental illnesses.)
I always had everything. Food, a nice house, clothes. Field trips, two cheap cars before 17, and a place to live several times as an adult. She also basically adopted my kid from me when I was 19. And single. And jobless. And giving birth 2.5 months early. (We didnt even have a crib.) I could never say with a straight face that they didnt take care of me. They did a fabulous job. My father was gone a lot. But i deeply respected him. He was my saving grace as a kid. He understood me. He let me be me, and he loved who i was deeply. He was almost always happy. He went with the flow like he was made to ride rip tides in the ocean. He was and still is my hero. And my mother is an absolute cunt. Who only loved me when she was happy. And she was really good at faking happy. But if you didnt walk on egg shells, jesus christ. You just couldnt get along. From the moment I had my first independant defiant thought, she would lash out anytime she didnt like something. And that something always felt like me.
She is and was and is proud to be a helicopter parent. Through and through. She literally did everything for me. I found freedom through lies and manipulation as a teenager. She would have a heart attack to know the things i got into.
If you dont know about helicopter parenting, look it up. Its pretty effing horrible. And i have many of the issues as an adult associated with this type of upbringing.
